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jFor XTrutb anb jFteebom 

IPoems of Commemoration 
Brmisteab C Got^on 



Staunton V)a 
HIbert Sbttlts 

1898 



2hcf COPY 
1898^ 




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fox ^rutb anb jpreebom 



jFor XTrutb anb jfreebom 

poems ot Commemoration 
Bvmtstea^ C Gordon 



Staunton IDa 
Elbert Sbult3 

1898 



COPVBIC.HT, iS^, 

By ARMISTEAD C. GORDON, 



^COPIES RECEIVky 






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Xieut.*Colonel IRawle^ M. /IDattin 

^ OF THE 53RD VIRGINIA REGIMENT, WHO LED 

THE CONFEDERATE LINE OVER THE STONE 
^, WALL IN PICKETT'S CHARGE AT 
^ GETTYSBURG, JULY 3, 1863. 
^' 

To him who through the summer sunshine led, 

As to a bridal, an immortal line 
Up those wild heights, — whose feet were first to 
tread 

The wine-press of that passion, — a divine 

And dazzling glory that shall deathless shine 
Across the yeats for those whose spirits stir, 

What time they see in memory Armistead 
With hat on sabre leap the wall, and hear 

The cannon's thunderous roar drowned in the 
charging cheer. 



Contents 

Prelude. 

In memory of the private soldiers and 
sailors of the confederacy. 

Roses of Memory. 

The Garden of Death. 

The Fostering Mother. 



IPvelut)e 

1898* 

Their heads are grizzled now, who drew 
The mother's viilk that day, ivhen War 
Rose on the horizon like a star 

To kindle hope ; when Freedom grew 
So near, that was so far. 

And clouds have lowered and fled ; a?id suns 
Have shone ; strange faces i7iterve7ie ; 
The embattled ^rass is ever green ; 

And only i?i our dreams the guns 
Peal, afid the flag is seen. 



preluDe 



In all the wars of all the world 

That men have known on land or sea. 
Inhere Hope hath welcomed Liberty ^ 

No fairer flag was e'er unfurled 
Than this, to lead the free. 

No belted knight, who in his grave 
Hath long since crumbled into dust. 
E'er drew a blade in cause more just , 

Nor hero fought a fight more brave, 
A battle more august. 



lO 



pre lube 



Far off the bayonets mix and gleam ^ 
The tides of confiid ebb ayid fiow ; 
The shotted guns of long ago 

Boom faint and far ; as in a dream 
The battle-bugles blow. 

Though but in dreams they gather yet,- 
If but in dreams their faces shine ^ — 
God keep for us these dreams divine, 

That we through life may not forget 
To love ''the thin gray line.'' 



II 



OF THE 

Private Soldiers and Sailors of the 

Confederacy. 
Richmond, Virginia May 30TH, 1894. 



"Gladly we should rest ever, had we won 
Freedom: we have lost, and very gladly rest.* 



Weigh not their worth by the balance of battle. 

These have glorified their cause by the record 

of noble sacrifice, the simple manhood of 

their lives, the patient e7idurance of 

suffering, and the heroism of 

death. May such Udeliiy 

and patriotism endure 

forever. * * 



13 



In /Demori? 

Since that spring morning when the first dread gun 

Boomed o'er the harbor of the seaport town, 
Fired by Virginia's lion-hearted son 

Who would not live to see his flag go down, 
Long years have passed away,— 
Youth's gold hath turned to gray; 
The old men fade and die; the young age day by 
day. 

But ere pale Death shall stand with equal feet 

Hard by each door — the door of old or young, — 
That glory can be wrested from defeat 
Let an "/<? Triumphe /" here be sung, 
Yielding the meed of praise, — 
Of laurels and green bays — 
To young and old alike who fought in those lost 
days* 



15 



tn memory 



Brighter than any born of time or fate — 

More beautiful than e'er beheld of men — 
Fronting the nations stood the fair 3^oung State ; 
And "Rebel" was the splendid badge again 
Worn by the sons of those 
Whom Freedom's feudal toes 
Had learned to bow before when Washington 
arose. 

They gathered round her beautiful bright form 

With glittering bayonets fixed to ready guns, 
Stirred by that passion Liberty keeps warm 
In every pulse of all her patriot sons, 
Offering upon her shrine 
The sacrifice divine 
Of Love ; and each man swore "Her holy cause 
is mine !" 



i6 



•ffn ^emor^ 



Her cause was their' s and Freedom's. For such 
cause 
Men have died gladly since that ancient day 
When the Three Hundred gave a Myriad pause 
For Grecian freedom at Thermopylae. 
These drew the Spartan sword ; 
These knew the Spartan word : 
''With it or 071 it f' These the Spartan spirit 
stirred. 

On the most glowing page of human story 

Are writ in lines of light their deathless names. 
Our heritage is their eternal glory , 

Their record of undying deeds is frame's . 
The immemorial roll 
Of her resplendent scroll 
Their honor and their valor shall extol. 



17 



IFn naemoti? 



O'er that first field, made red with their first blood 

Rang through the tumult as a bugle-call 
His kingly voice, who royally bestowed 

On Jackson's soldiers "standing like a wall" 
The battle-accolade, 
Knighting the great Brigade 
And him who at its head had drawn his sword 
and prayed. 

Booted and spurred, his troopers riding ever 
Ready for the fierce tray, entwined around 
His brows the laurel-leaves that made forever 
Thenceforth the name of Stuart glory-crowned: 
They followed where he led ; 
They conquered where he bled ; 
Gladly had each one died in the lost leader's 
stead. 



i8 



fn /iDemor^ 



Can you not hear booming across the years 
The thunderous echoes of young Pelham's 
guns ? 
There went to war than her red cannoneers 
None higher-hearted of the South 's true sons ; 
Whatever else betide, 
Down the dim years they ride 
Who joyous rode to death as bridegroom to his 
bri(ie. 

Beyond the vast of time we can descry 

In memory the white foam and the sweep 
Of the great Ram. Virginia ; and on high 

The Southern pennant fluttering o'er the deep; 
And hear the sullen roar 
Of the grim guns she bore 
Proclaiming Freedom's fight from listening shore 
to shore. 



In nnemor^ 



In many a battle oa the wandering waye 

The sailors whom this shaft commemorates, 
Wrote high on Glory's record that the brave 
Who fall for Freedom sleep at Freedom's gates; 
That after life lived free, 
Life lost for Liberty 
Is God's most gracious gift that hath been or 
shall be. 

For Freedom! aye! for Freedom! 'Twas this hope 

That sent the steady, steel-tipped line of gray 
Fringed with hell's fires up the steep slippery 
slope 
Of Gettysburg, on that most fateful day 
That found our pathway crossed 
By an outnumbering host : — 
That witnessed high hopes flown; that saw the 
dear Cause lost. 



20 



Hn /iDemor^ 



Unfaltering in their grave fidelity 

Steadfast in purpose to the bitter end , 
They closed thin ranks, and set brave eyes to see 
And dauntless hearts to bear what Fate should 
send; 

Not looking vainly back 
Along the traversed track, — 
But facing War's last blast, its hurricane and 
wrack. 

When came the bitter end, the bugle blew 

Its last sad note, that brought the blinding tears 
Down wasted cheeks from eyes that only knew 
Honor and Death through all the weary years. 
The long hard fight was done; 
Silenced was every gun ; 
And what we lost, e'en now they do not dream, 
who won. 



21 



tn memory 



Let not the worth of any such be weighed 

By battle's balance. They who glorified 
Their righteous cause and lived, and they who 
made 
The sacrifice supreme, in that they died 
To keep their country fi'ee, 
Alike gave men to see 
What hero-hearts were their' s who thus loved 
Liberty ! 

They did their duty in the leal fearless fashion 
Of antique knighthood's flower, each man a 
knight, 
Careless if Death, dividing peace from passion, 
Whispering should greet them in the roar of 
fight, 

Or Life to ceaseless pain 
Should lead them forth again ; 
Knowing that duty done is never done in vain. 



22 



IFn miemory 



Time shall not dim their memory. The web 

The spider weaves may hang across the moutli 
Of the dismanted cannon, and the ebb 
And flow of erstwhile battle in the South 
Be but the shadowy gleam 
Of a long vanished dream; 
But ever over all this shaft shall loom supreme, 

Silently telling in majestic beauty 

Through all the years the story of their faith, 
Their love of Truth, of Freedom and ot Duty — 
Transcendent Love, triumphant over Death ! 
Harm now can reach them never : 
Their fame is sure forever 
While stands the sacred Hill, or flows the shining 
River. 



23 



IRoses of /iDemot^ 

'^On every ragged gray cap the Lord God 
Almighty laid the sword of His i^nperishable 
knighthood. "" 



25 



IRoses ot /iDemorp 

A rose's crimson stain, 

A rose's stainless white, 
Fitly become the immortal slain 
Who feel in the great fight. 

When Armistead died amid his foes, 

Girt by the rebel cheer, 
God plucked a soul like a white rose 
In June time o' the year. 

The blood in Pickett's heart 

Was of a ruddier hue 
Than the reddest bloom whose petals part 
To welcome heaven's dew. 

I think the fairest flowers that blow 
Should greet the life-stream shed 
In that historic long ago 
By this historic dead. 



27 



1R05C5 Of nnemor\? 



The immemorial years 

Such valor never knew 
As poured a flood of crimson blood 
At Gettysburg with you . 

Living and dead, in faith the sa^ne, 

I see you on that height, 
Crowned with the rosy wreath of fame 
Won in the fatal fight. 

Not these had made afraid 

King Arthur's mystic sword — 
Not Bayard's most chivalric blade, 
Nor Gideon's, for the Lord. 

Yours was the strain of high emprise, 

Yours the unfaltering faith, — 
The honor lofty as the skies, 
The duty strong as death. 



28 



IRoses ot nnemor^ 



When Douglas flung the heart 

Of Bruce amid his foes, 
And said : "He leads. We do not part : 
I follow where he goes ;" 

No mightier impulse stirred his soul 

Than that which up yon height 
Moved you with Pickett toward the goal 
Of freedom in that fight. 

The fair goal was not won , 

The famous fight was lost ; 
But never shone the all-seeing sun 
On more heroic host. 

Your deeds of mighty prowess shame 

All deeds of derring-do 
With which Time's bloody pages flame. 
— Hail and farewell to you ! 



29 



1RC}SCS ot /ir^entor^ 



Unto the dead farewell ! 

They are hid in the dark and cold ; 
And the broken shaft and the roses tell 
What is left of the tale untold. 

The}^ are deaf to the martial music's call 

Till a judgment dawn shall break 
When the trumpet of Truth shall proclaim 
to all: 
*'They perished for my sake 1" 

Let them be quiet here 

Where birds and blossoms be; — 
And hail to you, who bring the tear 
And the rose of memory 

To water and deck each lowly grave 

Of those, who in God's sight 
With loyal hearts their hearts' blood gave 
For the eternal right ! 



30 



IRoses ot /iDemor^ 



Alike for low and high 

The roses white and red: 
For valor and honor cannot die. 
And they were of these dead , 
The private in his jacket of gray 
And the general with his star 
The Lord God knighted alike that day, 
In the red front ol War. 



31 



XTbe (Barren of S)eatb 

'* The grief that circled his brows with a crown 
oj thorns was also that which wreathed them with 
the splendor of immortality. ' ' 



33 



TLbc Garden ot Wcatb 

Where are they who marched away, 
Sped with smiles that changed to tears, 

Glittering lines of steel and gray 
Moving down the battle's way — 

Where are they these many years ? 

Garlands wreathed their shining swords ; 

They were girt about with cheers, 
Children's lispings, women's words. 
Sunshine and the songs of birds. — 

They are gone so many years. 

'*Lo 1 beyond their brave array 

Freedom's august dawn appears :" 
Thus we said : 'The brighter day 
Breaks above that line of gray." — 
Where are thej^ these many years ? 



35 



Xlbe (Batben of Beatb 



All our hearts wept with them there, 
All our love, and all our prayers ; 
What of them ? How do they fare, 
They who went to do and dare, 
And are gone so many years ? 

What of them who went away 

Followed by our hopes and fears ? 
Braver never marched than they, 
Closer ranks to fiercer fray. — 

Where are they these many years ? 

Borne upon the Spartan shield 

Home returned that brave array 
From the blood-stained battle-field 
They might neither win nor yield; 
That is all, and here are they. 



36 



Ube 6arben of Beatb 



That is all. The soft sky bends 

O'er them, lapped in earth away ; 
Her benignest influence lends, — 
Dews and rains and radiance sends 
Down upon them, night and day. 

Over them the Springtide weaves 

All the verdure of her May ; 
Past them drift the sombre leaves 
When the heart of Autumn grieves 

O'er their slumbers. — What care they ? 

What care they, who failed to win 
Guerdon of that splendid day — 

Freedom's day — they saw begin. 

But that, 'mid the battle's din, 
Faded in eclipse away ? 



37 



tEbe <3art)en ot Beatb 



All is gone lor them. They gave 

All for naught. It was their way 
Where they loved. They died to save 
What was lost. The fight was brave. 
That is all ; and here are they, 

— Is that all ? Was Duty naught ? 

Love, and Faith made blind with tears? 
What the lessons that they taught ? 
What the glory that they caught 

From the onward sweeping years ? 

Here are they who marched away 
Followed by our hopes and tears ; 

Nobler never went than they 

To a bloodier, madder frsiy, 
In the lapse of all the 3^ears. 



38 



TLbc Garden ot is>catb 



Garlands still shall wreathe the swords 

That they drew amid our cheers : 
Children's lispings, women *s words. 
Sunshine, and the songs of birds 

Greet them here thrait<2:h all the vears. 



•&' 



With them ever shall abide 

All our love and all our prayers. 
— *' What of them ?'* The battle's tide 
Hath not scathed them. Lo ! they ride 
Still with Stuart down the years. 

*' Where are they who went away 

Sped with smiles that changed to tears ?'* 
Lee yet leads the lines of gray, — 
Stonewall still rides down this way . 

They are Fame's throngh all the years ! 



39 



Zbc ffosterina /iDotber 



**And ye shall know the Truth and the Truth 
shall VI ake you free. ^^ — John viii. 32. 



Delivered June 14th, 1898, at the inauguration 
of the new buildings of the University of Vir- 
ginia, replacing those destroyed by fire October 
27. 1895. 

41 



Xlbe jfostertna /iDotber 

The dawn of summer breaks in beauty o'er her, 
Crowned Queen, and seated on her throne once 
more ; 
Gather again her children to adore her, — 

To hail her soul-compelling as of yore, 
Where she sits girdled with an olden glory, 
Turning the latest page of her illumined 
story: — 

An open book that he who runs may read, — 
Annals of patience, courage, sacrifice, 

Blazoned with lofty thought and splendid deed, 
Science and song and battle's great emprise ; 

Scroll of the intellect's majestic sway ; 

Scripture of hope and faith that shall not fade 
away. 



43 



Zbc jfosterinG nnotber 



One name, before which none in all time ever 
Hath been or shall be, shining there is writ :— 

Worker of Revolutions, mighty giver 

Of Freedom's Charter, and the Voice of it. 

When kingdoms shake, and iron empires fall, 
Through multitudinous time shall ring the 
clarion call 

Of the eternal lesson that he taught : — 

"The gift of God is Freedom." Never gift. 

In all the ages with His promise fraught, 
Hath been bestowed like this one to uplift 

Mortality to godhood, and to light 

Man's pathway through the years till Time be 
put to flight. 



44 



XTbe jfosteriuG nQotber 



It is the gift of God. Philosophy 

Might not devise it ; art might never limn 

Its beauty ; in the realm of poesy 

It were undreamed of, were it not of Him. 

Science, whose feet are with the lightnings shod, 
Had never found it; for it is the gift of God. 

And when the nations arm them for the fray 
With hearts of fire and force of triple steel, 
To test the durance on some fateful day 

Of Tyranny or Freedom, they shall feel — 
Whether on blood-drenched sod or wandering 
wave, — 
The conquest theirs who know its sovereign 
strength to save* 



45 



XTbe yostertna /IDotber 



Let us rejoice then that upon her scroll, — 

Whereon our Mother reads the unfettered creed. 
The sacrificial courage of the soul, 

The uutrammeled thought that works the 
deathless deed, — 
Is written first, to last through latest years, 
This gift of God, though gained with immemo- 
rial tears. 

Teaching the lesson of that morning Voice 
To all her children, peace encompassed her. 

Till dawned a day in springtime, when the choice: 
"Death or Dishonor !" made her pulses vStir 

In scorn of Hie dishonored. *'For the truth 
Go forth and die 1" she said to her immortal 
youth. 



46 



XEbe jfostertng fmotbet 



The drum beat, and they answered. As they 
stood 
In the forefront of war, a sacred band, 
And poured the red libation of their blood 
At Freedom's altar for their native land, 
The stricken Mother wrote in words of flame : 
'^For Truth's most holy cause," o*er each re- 
splendent name. 

For Truth and Freedom ! Not the nameless 
dead. 
Who through the centuries by the Grecian sea 
Sleep in the narrow pass they kept, shall shed 

A nobler lustre upon Liberty 
Than these heroic hearts to whom she taught 
That Spartan fortitude is bom of Spartan 
thought. 



47 



TLbc Jfosterina /iDotbet 



Fronting defeat, she heard the drumbeat cease, — 
She heard the cannonading die away. — 

Counting her graves beneath the star of peace, 
With her dumb memories of that ended day 

Sacred to Freedom, glorified by death, 

She turned her holiest page in more exalted 
faith. 

**In storm or sunshine this one thing is sure. 

And shall be through His everlasting years : 
The gift of God is destined to endure," — 

So wrote she, * 'though j-e take it e'en with 
tears, 
Heartbreak and agony and bloody sweat ; 

They who have loved it once have never lost 
it yet." 



48 



Zbc jfosterina /iDotber 



It is her lesson still. Her slain sons sleeping 
A last long sleep, their battles all forgot, — 
Whom neither love nor prayers, nor any weeping 
Might bring back to the land where they are 
not, — 
Speak from the grave the message of their gain. 
That they are likewise free who slumber with 
the slain. 

It is the lesson still that to the living, 

Who gather 'neath her mantle's ample fold. 

She gives as one most worthy of her giving, — 
Better than fame, and finer far than gold, — 

The gift of God, that hath been and shall be. 
To know the eternal Truth, and knowing, to 
be free. 



49 



ZH jfosteriuG. naptbec. 



Freedom of thought, word, deed, — the wider 
scope. 
The nobler sense, the keener, deeper sight, 
The truer aim, the holier, higher hope, 

i^he more abundant strength, the loftier light, — 
All these are written fair for him to read 

Upon her open page, who learns her larger 
creed. 

*'The gift of God is Freedom. " To the end 
God grant it be the lesson she shall teach, 
Until its echoes, circling earth, shall blend 

In one deep chorus of thought, deed and 
speech, — 
When all the peoples upon land or sea 

Shall know the Truth at last,, and it shall make 
tiiem free. 



50 



MB -30. 



